In the churchyard of my grief I sat beneath the dark green leaf Of the fragrant ancient yew tree to think on thee Upon the time we had The good The bad The happy and sad. The clouds rolled in above my head They were jet black To remind me that you were dead. Alack! ~ A crow was cawing quite near by He knew you were too young to die Too fine to go with more to give I cannot forgive! That the great God of all Did not forestall, And let you live. You were a beautiful soul like no other. You were My whole world. My life. Oh, mother! ~ A little bird, perches beside me on a log A sudden fog of mist Blurred my eyes The robin’s bright red chest Defies the sobbing of my cries. He seems to know how much I miss you. (I’m sure if he could he’d pass me a tissue) Lesley Scoble, November 2023
I wrote ELEGY IN A CHURCHYARD for the d’Verse Poets MTB: Let’s lament without the lachrymose. My thanks to Laura and d’Verse Poets for this poetry prompt. I tried to lack the lachrymose. My apologies if I failed to eliminate it.
Lesley lives in the City of London Square Mile. An artist, actor and sculptor (her first ceramic sculpture won the V&A inspired by… Award). Scenic artist & book illustrator, playwright, (her musical play, Rapscallion performed in inner city schools and theatre school); TV dancer; Animator and illustrator for TV production. Set up Pinecone Studios Ltd and IIMSI Ltd drama and filmmaking workshops in London – producing award-winning films made by children.
LesleyScoble.com 
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